


Pillow Forts and Pillow Talks

by thewritingkoala, Tina0609



Series: Tom & Hanna [15]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Pregnancy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 02:32:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17153633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritingkoala/pseuds/thewritingkoala, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tina0609/pseuds/Tina0609
Summary: We meet Tom and Han when Jamie is a little over 1, and another addition to the family makes their announcement.





	Pillow Forts and Pillow Talks

Han closes the door, slips out of her ballerina flats and walks into the kitchen. She sets the bag with groceries on the counter, snatches one item out and stuffs it into her handbag instead, which she keeps on a dining chair.

The silence in the house gives her pause. She’s been out for a bit of grocery shopping, telling Tom–who’s here for two weeks between shoots–to enjoy some father-and-son-time with wee Jamie, who’s 14 months old and clingy as a baby monkey whenever his father is home.

Silence, as all parents know, is highly suspicious. Have Big and Little Hiddleston turned the house upside down and fallen into exhausted sleep?

Dreading what she’ll find, Han decides not to call out. She walks into the living room, which isn’t just empty of people but also of sofa cushions. Oh god, did her two men spill some food or drink all over the place? She checks the carpet for stains and finds none (well, no new ones). Huh.

Her feet carry her into the bedroom and Jamie’s room, both just as empty at a quick glance.

Have they gone out without telling her?

Pouting, Han decides to check in the bathroom, though surely then she’d have heard some noises.

On the way, something catches her eye. The sliding door to the back porch is half-open. When she steps closer to investigate, she can’t stifle a startled gasp.

So THAT’S where all the cushions and pillows have gone. The sight greeting her is unexpected and oddly heart-warming at the same time. It’s a sort of wonky but mighty comfy-looking pillow fort on the porch in the semi-shade, with extra blankets thrown in and a group of stuffed animals.

Little Hiddleston is currently napping in Big Hiddleston’s lap, his father’s endless legs stretched out and one long-fingered hand softly stroking the child’s hair. The look on Tom’s face tugs at something inside Han, spreading warmth.

“Hey,” she says softly, watching the sunlight form a halo around Tom’s bent head so he looks like a guardian angel protecting the infant’s sleep.

Tom looks up when he hears Han’s soft greeting and grins at her. “Hey,” he whispers back.

Jamie’s fallen asleep maybe 10 minutes ago, exhausted from building the pillow fort and then making decisions on which of his stuffed animals were allowed inside with them.

As predicted, there was a lot of running back and forth between his room and the porch. And that’s probably the reason he grew tired, because yes, he’s mastered walking shortly before his first birthday, but no, he’s not that good at building forts just yet.

Han is still standing by the door, her hands resting on her hips, her head tilted to the side a little. “So, what’s this then?” she asks.

“It’s mighty comfy, that’s what this is.”

There’s a smile on Han’s face, but she also looks a bit tired, which isn’t surprising, Tom thinks, as a mum to a 14-months-old who just went grocery shopping and who’s slept for maybe 5 hours tonight, because Jamie was awake quite a bit.

“It looks like it,” Han sighs.

“Come here.” He holds out the hand that isn’t stroking Jamie’s hair. “We’re nowhere near done for today.”

“We, huh?” Han asks, and Tom grins.

He pulls her closer when she takes his hand, giving her his best innocent look.

“Yes. It was Jamie’s idea, you know? He simply insisted on a pillow fort, so I had no choice but to comply.”

 _“Ja klar.”_ (Yeah sure.)

Han rolls her eyes, and it makes him notice the shadows under them again. They’ve been there for two days (since he’s come home) and he’s getting worried. Is taking care of their son becoming too much? Should he ask Em to drop by?

“Because Jamie is definitely old enough to demand and do all this,” his wife scoffs, surveying the comfy mayhem and probably already thinking of how to get the pillows, cushions, and blankets clean later.

Tom tugs hard on her hand, deliberately unbalancing her and catching her with his free arm to pull her down next to him. His wee son, bless him, snores on.

“Well, maybe not quite. But he’s your and my son, so he’s bound to be a genius of some sort,” he says, waggling his brows.

Han laughs, and the sound is warmer than the sunshine filtering through one of the blankets draped over two garden chairs.

“A genius hobnob eater maybe. Or he’ll break the record for the youngest child to quote Shakespeare,” Han jokes, gazing from him to the child.

Jamie chooses that exact moment to mumble something in his sleep and grizzle, and Tom stares at Han. “Uh…was that his first Hamlet soliloquy attempt then?”

Now she’s laughing even more, really laughing, and Tom basks in it.

No matter how tired she is – she’s very tired today – Han loves that Tom always manages to make her laugh.

Not just with his jokes or the funny faces he makes, and not always in the hearty way. But it’s also in the way he looks at Jamie. With pure adoration and utterly in love.

“Definitely the Hamlet soliloquy. At least. Maybe Homer in ancient Greek,” she nods mock seriously.

“Don’t tease like that.” Han looks at Tom who looks back with a pout as he pokes her in her sides with a finger, making Han trying to get away with a giggle.

“Stop it!” she squeaks and laughs and then tries to calm down and not wake up Jamie. She’s so glad he’s sleeping and giving her a few moments to breathe.

He’s a handful already, a thought that sends a shiver down her spine.

But her thoughts are interrupted before they can really begin to form as Tom pulls her closer again, wraps an arm over her shoulders and kisses the top of her head.

“Okay, I’ll stop. For now. And only if you’re nice to me. And because I want Jamie to sleep a bit more,” he mumbles, and Han feels his lips split into a grin above her.

“Pf,” is her only answer.

* * *

They sit like that for a moment, Han breathing in the comfy scents of Tom, infant, and garden. This really is nice, even if it’ll mean tons of work later. And surely Tom will help with that. With his gigantic hands, he could probably carry all the pillows in one go, the freak.

Smiling some more, Han settles more firmly into his embrace.

“Han?”

“Mhm.”

“If you give me a kiss, I might be persuaded to share our treasure trove with you.”

She shifts to look at Tom. “Treasure trove?”

He nods, a giddy spark of excitement gleaming in his eyes and a grin tugging at his lips that make him look boyish despite his age and the little son sleeping on his lap.

“I’ll have you know my kisses will cost you more than a bit of bling,” she says with as much dignity as she can muster, playing along.

“What if it’s eatable treasure?” Tom tempts her, and Han raises her brows at him.

She’d kill for something nice to eat right now. Not like yesterday, when everything tasted like hell and she barely kept her breakfast down.

“Alright, let’s see that treasure then.”

Leaning in, she teases Tom with a kiss on his forehead and on the tip of his nose before pressing her lips to his. His hand slides from her waist up her back to cradle the nape of her neck and keep her in place for a moment longer. His lips caress and press, his teeth nibble. And she’s suddenly hungry not just for food.

Jamie gives a little squeak-and-snuffle in his sleep, making them part.

Blessedly, their son doesn’t wake up. Tom breaks their embrace to gently lift Jamie onto his own pillow close by, then angles his long body to pull a wicker picnic basket close.

“And now for the hidden loot!”

Han grins. “How much is left?” At Tom’s pout, her grin grows. “Or better yet, how often did you fill it?”

“Excuse me? I can’t hear you over the beautiful smell of Hobnobs,” her husband jokes, making Han roll her eyes. Hobnobs, of course.

And then suddenly she’s hungry and her stomach growls and she shoves Tom’s hands to the side. “Open up.”

She does so herself. It’s not just Hobnobs inside. It’s little healthy cookies for Jamie as well, and Han finds some apple slices too. She scrunches up her nose. It’s not really a treasure now, is it?

And then she looks a little closer and finds some of her favourite candies – and chocolate – from Germany. Ritter Sport Praline, Kinder Country, Toffifee as well as Rocher and Hanuta. And, she realises with a start, some are from Germany.

“God, Tom, I love you,” she breathes, making him chuckle.

“You just say that because I made your mother send us chocolate.”

Han digs a little deeper, and then suddenly her stomach churns and the butterflies in her belly aren’t out of love for Tom anymore. So, she closes the basket and takes a few breaths.

“Jamie can eat the bananas then.”

With a groan, Tom lets himself fall backward, hitting a stack of cushions with a ‘thwump’ that makes Jamie grizzle in his sleep but still not wake up.

He hides his rapidly blushing face behind his hands. “You’ll never stop teasing me about that banana incident, will you?”

“Of course I won’t. It’s my duty as your wife to preserve that oh-so-entertaining memory snippet for all eternity.”

Tom peeks between his fingers. Her tone is jocular but her voice is oddly wobbly. And why is she staring at all the goodies as if they suddenly stopped being appealing?

He removes his hands and props himself up on his elbows. Huh. He must’ve imagined that expression. Han is now reaching for one of her favourites, a Kinder Country.

Tom uses his wingspan advantage to reach out and snag her wrist when she starts unwrapping the chocolate.

“Hold on. This is my pillow fort, so I’m going to set down some rules.”

He gives his tone all of the authority he can muster as she rolls her eyes at him.

“Rules? But what’s the fun in that?”

He’d like to kiss away that pout but keeps his stern glare. “Order first. Fun later.”

Dragging her hand closer, he rips the packing open and breaks off a piece of the Kinder Country, its chocolate coating already beginning to melt a little.

“Rule Number One: Everything you eat out of that basket will be fed to you. And vice versa.”

He holds out the chocolate piece to Han, whose pout is replaced by a slow smile. Not only does she allow him to feed her with it, but she also sneaks out her tongue to lick a dollop of melted chocolate off his thumb.

Well. This plan is going to backfire… Backfire spectacularly even. Because Han’s not just licking, she also moans a little.

“Han,” he says. He won’t survive this. “Don’t do that to me.”

Tom retreats his hand – well, wants to – but Han holds on to his wrist and nibbles on his thumb.

“Hm,” she mumbles. “But I’m hungry.”

Before Tom can respond, there’s shuffling behind him. Han pouts again and lets go of Tom’s hand. He looks next to him and sees something that’ll always make his heart roar whenever he witnesses it.

Jamie’s awake, his little fists rubbing at his eyes and his mouth forming a huge yawn. He’s still a little disoriented and looks around, blinking owlishly.

Tom smiles, and tenderly, he reaches out and strokes Jamie’s hand a little. “Hello there.”

But his son is grumpy, moves his hand away and shakes his head once with a muttered “No.”

Instead he sits up a little and looks around Tom, still frowning. Oh, Tom knows that face. He’d never say it out loud, but it reminds him of Han first thing in the morning.

And then Han is spotted. Next to him, Tom hears her mumble, “He’s got your timing,” and then Jamie’s crawling over Tom’s legs, basically ignoring him, and settles himself in Han’s lap, snuggling close, facing her and wrapping his arms around her middle.

“Mama.”

And Tom melts faster than that chocolate as he sees Han doing the same.

“Now it’s not that bad, me feeding you, right?” Tom can’t help but ask and just grins at Han’s glare.

Han concedes that he’s right. Warm on the inside and outside, with a happy child cuddled close and her husband feeding her German chocolate, she feels as if she’s been granted a day trip to heaven.

She wants to feed Tom too but right now, there’s a pleasant laziness creeping into her bones and she doesn’t want to move an inch.

Ignoring the clingy child for a moment, Tom leans in to lick a drop of melted chocolate off the corner of her mouth.

Yup, heaven.

And it might well be her last chance at all this peace and quiet. Which reminds her…

“Tom?” she says between two bites of gooey goodness.

“Mhm.” He looks at her, his face suffused with the same happiness that she feels.

“I need to…” Before she can continue, jealous Jamie wiggles and makes a grab for the chocolate bar that Tom is holding, which inevitably results in him getting sticky brown stuff all over his little face and onesie.

Well. So much for relaxing.

“I’ve got this.” Tom wags an admonishing finger at his son, plucks him right off the cushions and jogs into the house, leaving Han staring after them.

He certainly seems to ‘get this’ when it comes to parenting. Although he’s not home as often as some fathers, he’s playing an important role in this family and he’s got his little son wrapped around his fingers. His wife too, obviously. It isn’t always easy but it’s right like this.

And so Han settles down with a small sigh and roots around for a Hanuta which she could maybe feed to Tom once he’s returned with a hopefully clean Jamie.

* * *

Jamie’s not that cooperative when it comes to changing his clothes – along with his nappies – and cleaning him up, Tom realises. A sniffling Jamie lies before him, unhappy and grumpy because he’s not asleep anymore. And because Tom is not Han.

“I know, little one, I know. I’m not Mama,” he says, picking up Jamie and making his way outside again.

Tom’s not jealous, he really isn’t. Sometimes Jamie wants nobody but Han, and sometimes everything Tom does is right and he’s got Jamie hanging off his arm like a little monkey.

Tom steps outside with a clean Jamie and is greeted by a grinning Han who’s got a Hanuta – Tom tried those before when he visited Germany with her – in her hand.

“I think it’s time to feed you now.”

Tom grins. “I like that.”

As soon as he sits down with Jamie in his lap, his little son leaves him to crawl into Han’s lap again. She rolls her eyes, but Tom can see in her smile how much she enjoys this. And Tom does too.

Han reaches over, teasing him by pulling the piece of waffle-covered chocolate away again, and then feeds him.

Tom sighs happily, munching away. The birds are chirping and the sun warms the fort. Jamie is babbling and Han is sitting right next to him. It can’t get better than this.

“Tom, I think we need to talk about something.”

“I know, I know,” he answers, catching Han completely by surprise.

Wait, what? He knows? But…how?

“You do?”

He gives her a sage nod, and although it’s a serious topic indeed, Han wonders why looks so solemn. Shit, does that mean he will take the news badly? It’s too soon, right?

Gnawing worriedly on her lower lip, she asks, “How did you guess?”

“Guess?” For a moment, Tom looks confused, absently grabbing a piece of apple and pressing it into Jamie’s chubby hands so he’ll nibble on it in peace.

Han frowns, holding her now eating son in her lap. “Yeah, guess. I mean, it’s not like you were here much the past couple of weeks.”

Now Tom is frowning too. “Why? Did you actually talk to someone about wanting to be pampered? Throw hints?”

Huh? Wait a second, something’s not right. Sure, a bit of pampering would be nice, especially when it’s a bad morning, but…

“Uh, no?”

“I’m a mind reader, baby!” Tom boasts at that, giving her one of those lopsided winks. “I simply knew you’d approve of a pillow fort and some pampering.”

Before Han’s addled brain can catch up with that–okay, so he’s definitely NOT talking about what she thought he’s talking about–Tom draws himself up to his full height.

“And of course I know that just a few pillows and chocolate isn’t enough. So no need to give me a stern talking to, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

Bewildered, Han looks on as Tom roots around underneath the chocolate. It IS a misunderstanding then. He thought she was going to voice a complaint about his pillow fort.

With a triumphant crow of a sound that his son imitates most adorably around a mouthful of apple, Tom holds up something. It’s a paperback.

“I come armed with reading material,” he announces proudly, beaming at her. “I remembered all your talk about Harry Potter, so I got this copy and now you’re going to relax and let me read to you.”

Huh. Han frowns. And then reluctantly moves back to lie on the pillows behind her, Jamie moving along with his head on her chest, still happily munching on his slice of apple.

Okay then. Tom’s going to read to her. But she actually doesn’t have the mind to even listen to him.

_“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much,” Tom starts to read. He’s right. She’s been nagging him about how he’s never read the books. And she loves him for doing this for her. Plus, Harry Potter read in that voice does things to her. She almost misses him continuing, “They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense.”_

Han doesn’t really hear any more of that, because the thoughts swirl in her head. She wants to find out. She’s already drunk a lot of water and possibly could pee in a few minutes. Oh, and she doesn’t only want to find out, she needs to.

Han looks down at Jamie, her son seemingly lost in the story – or just in Tom’s voice, which also becomes some kind of white noise next to her.

He’s a happy boy and Han prides herself on her and Tom being the reason he’s turned out the way he did in his first year. He’s clever and cheeky, and Han knows he’ll be a handful soon.

All the more reason to actually talk to Tom.

“Tom.” He stops reading and when Han looks at him she can see a frown forming. Okay. Yes, she’s interrupted him in the middle of a sentence. “I didn’t mean the pampering.”

“Oh?”

“What do you think of sequels?”

“Uhm. I can read the third book first, if you want me to?”

Han shakes her head, a hand reaching out to touch his wrist. “No. I mean, in general.”

“Well. I’ve had a Marvel contract for over 10 years. I’m okay with sequels I guess,” he laughs and then scrunches up his nose. “What is it?”

“What if there was a sequel in the works? A Volume 2 so to speak?”

She watches his face go through about a dozen different expressions within a few seconds, can almost hear his brain trying to come to a conclusion.

They often jokingly call Jamie their Little Hiddleston Volume 1. Tom even accidentally let that slip in an interview once, and ever since some of his fans have used the term too.

Tom’s eyes suddenly grow as wide as saucers, and she feels his pulse kick up beneath her fingers. Or maybe she’s trembling?

“Han? Does that mean what I think it means?”

His voice sounds odd. High and quivering and choked up, which makes her choke up in turn. It’s all she can do to formulate an answer.

“What do you think it means?”

“A-are you pregnant again?”

When she gives him a tiny nod and whispers “I think so, not sure though”, his expression freezes in a look of wonder.

“Holy. Fuck.”

She can’t even reprimand him for cursing in front of Jamie (who’s taken the initiative and grabbed another apple slice though his first one is still half-eaten). She’s too desperate to see how Tom takes the news, his eyes having glazed over.

There are a million thoughts in Tom’s head, each of them fighting for dominance. They’d have two little children, Jamie not fully 2. Tom will be away filming again for at least some time of the pregnancy. Will it be too much for Han?

And then… they’ll have two. Another Mini-Tom-And-Han. Jamie’s going to be a big brother. He’ll love that. They’ll love that. It’s also not that surprising it happened, they’ve been deliberately not very careful in terms of preventing this.

“Tom?” comes Han’s tiny voice from in front of him. By now she’s sat up again, Jamie not in her lap anymore but behind Han, trying to feed an apple slice to his stuffed bear, ‘Boo’.

“I… you’re…”

She nods. “Yeah. Maybe. Don’t know, there’s a test somewhere in my bag.”

“Do you want to find out?” Please. She must say yes. Because now Tom needs to know desperately.

“God, yes.”

“Let’s do this then,” he says and slowly prys her hand from his wrist before she cuts all the blood circulation with her strong hold. “Do you want me to come with you?”

By now, Tom’s trying not to grin like a mad man, steeling himself for the possibility of a false alarm.

“Not peeing, no. But waiting, please.”

Tom nods and pats her thigh. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

* * *

These have got to be the longest two minutes of his life. Longer than all the moments of stage fright before a theater performance. And just as nerve-wracking.

He wants the test to be positive, though a niggling voice at the back of his mind warns him that maybe Han isn’t all that happy. Or is she? And how much will their life change again?

Is it two minutes later yet?

Toms scoops Jamie up to carry him monkey-style, half-dangling and screeching in delight because that’s his favourite goofy way to be carried.

He starts pacing the terrace, avoiding all the cushions and pillows, and counting in his head. Twice, he loses his thread and starts again, then mumbles “fuck it” under his breath and marches into the building.

The bathroom door is open a little, and there’s no sound to be heard.

Tom pulls in a deep breath and hugs his son properly to himself, mindless of having half-chewed apple smeared all over his arm.

“Han? Can you see anything yet?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles more to herself than as an answer to Tom. Truth is, she really doesn’t. Because yes, she’s chickened out, but she also wants Tom to be there to check with her.

“Pardon?” she hears from the other side of the door.

“I don’t know. I haven’t checked.”

Truth is, Han doesn’t know what she wants. Well. They’ve obviously decided that Jamie shouldn’t be an only child and that they would try. They wouldn’t be in this situation otherwise. But Han also didn’t think it would be this fast. She’d have a not-yet-2-year-old following her around while Tom is away shooting and her body grows larger and larger again.

Han stops musing when the door’s pushed open a little bit more.

“Are you alright?” Tom asks, looking like she’s feeling. A nervous twitch on his lips, but eyes shining and a curious looking Jamie in his arms. They can totally do it again, if this is what’ll await them. Times two.

“I think I am,” she answers from the closed toilet seat she’s currently sitting on, not daring to look at the turned over test on the edge of the bathtub. By now she’s afraid the test could be negative.

“Then I am too.”

He comes in and sits down in front of Han, back to the tub, right next to the test. The tension lifts a little when Jamie – perched on Tom’s lap – decides it’s time to feed his Papa some apple. Not waiting for his mouth to fully open, shoving the chewed on slice against Tom’s lips and cheeks.

“Thank you, Volume One.”

Han grins at the sight in front of her. That is until Jamie sees the test, grabs it and starts shaking it.

“Jamie, no!”

Startled, he drops the strange stick, making it land upside down next to Tom’s thigh, while his little bottom lip starts to wobble, having been shouted at.

Tom sees Han’s lips wobble too and acts on autopilot, something he’s perfected ever since Volume One entered their lives. Using his wingspan to reach over and grab the Avengers rubber ducky on the rim of the bathtub, he presses it into his son’s little hand.

“There you go, buddy,” he coos, “this is much nicer. Wanna make it squeak for Mama and Papa, hm? Make it squeak?”

Luckily, wee Jamie loves his rubber ducky and avidly squishes it to make some noise, all previous woes forgotten in an instant.

Tom sends a half-grin Han’s way, which she answers with one of her own that quickly fades. Her gaze slides to the upside-down stick and she swallows.

“Would you like me to do the honours, love?” he asks, his heart in his throat.

A quick, jerky nod is his answer. And so he reaches for the test with his free hand. He takes a deep breath and turns it over, his eyes widening at the two lines.

“Han…it’s…it’s…” SQUEAK goes the rubber ducky as his wife leans forward and time seems to stand still. “It’s positive!”

He’s not seeing enthusiastic clapping or laughing when he looks at Han, though. She swallows hard, tears are filling her eyes, and one hand goes up to cover her mouth.

“Han?”

“I’m… it’s… we?”

Tom knows that look. It’s a mixture of shock, not quite believing it, wanting to believe it, and thinking of all the things that could go wrong. Normally, he’s the one to worry about everything concerning his family.

“Looks like it,” Tom confirms softly, takes the test and holds it out for Han to take. When she does with a shaking hand, the other still covering her mouth, Han’s eyes widen, and Tom can’t help but ask, “Are you happy?”

The nod is slow, but it’s there, and Tom immediately feels a bit lighter, a bit more stable.

“I am. It’s just… you’ll be away filming. And I’ll grow – gods, I’ll be so massive again – and there’s Volume 1 not knowing what’s going on. And we don’t have the space… And…”

“Okay, that’s enough.”

He’s known her long enough to know that there needs to be a little rambling in order to get her thoughts sorted. She’ll be a little panicky for about a minute. And then Tom needs to be there and confirm everything will be fine. And that’s now.

“Come here,” he says when Han stops talking, and he holds out a hand.

She grabs it, slides from the seat and shuffles over to Tom, Jamie being non the wiser, still playing with the duck, making squeaky noises. Which makes this announcement almost less glamourous than Han telling him she was pregnant with Volume 1. And that’s an achievement in itself.

With Jamie on his lap, Han makes do with the limited space by snuggling up closely to Tom’s side.

“Everything will be fine, you hear me? I won’t always be away, definitely not when it’s Volume 2 and there’s Jamie to look out for. You’ll have me to pick up cake in the middle of the night, okay?”

Han smiles, a little tremulously. It’s not just the memory of Tom doing exactly that during the first pregnancy but also the certainty that he’ll keep his promise, somehow. Maybe they don’t have it as easy as other couples or families–but in a way, they do. Because the important things are there: love, loyalty, trust, support, honesty.

“Speaking of cake,” Tom interrupts her rather mushy thoughts with a twinkle in his eyes, “should I pop over to the bakery and get us some celebratory cake? Or will another round of the German chocolate do?”

Han considers, weighing the delights of that bakery against having Tom to snuggle and shed a few tears of joy with.

“Chocolate will do. And a celebratory kiss?”

She blinks at him, most of her nerves now gone. Sure, she’ll have her blood checked to confirm the test result, and they’ll need to sit down and readjust their schedules. But for now, happiness is slowly taking over.

Tom obliges eagerly, though he keeps the kiss tender and loving.

“Congratulations on making a Volume Two, Mrs. Hiddleston,” he whispers and nuzzles her cheek.

She can feel a grin break out on her face. “Well, you did have a part to play in the ‘making’ too.”

Tom’s ‘ehehehe’ echoes in the bathroom. “I wonder when and where we struck gold this time. Definitely not a limousine, which is probably an improvement.”

Han blushes and snickers at the memory, glancing fondly at Jamie, the result of frisky after-awards-ceremony Tom and rather comfy car seats.

“Oh, look who’s exhausted by the news of a little sibling.” She points at their wee son, looking cherubic as he’s fallen asleep on Tom’s lap with a half-eaten piece of apple slowly sliding out of his slackening mouth.

Chuckling, Tom pulls the apple slice out of Jamie’s mouth, dropping it next to him on the bathroom floor. If there’s one thing he’s learnt from his time with a child, it’s not being picky about half eaten food smeared on clothes, body parts and furniture.

The thought of having another child joining their big brother in his mischief sends waves of joy through Tom’s body.

Then Tom stops for a moment, realising he’s not asked the important question. “How are you, Han? Have you been sick? Are there any cramps?” He’s trying to remember other details from the last pregnancy and what her body went through. Cringing at the memory of her sickness in the first months.

In his arms, Han shrugs a little, before answering. “I had a few rough mornings. But I’m fine.” There’s a smile in her voice, and Han’s body moves closer to his.

“Good,” he sighs, then pokes her a little, prompting her to move away a bit. “I’ll get this one to bed, and you go and wait for me with the chocolate in that pillow fort, okay?”

Han’s chuckle waves through the bathroom. “I think I can do that.”

She gets up from the floor, but not before pressing a tender kiss to Tom’s lips. “You want to celebrate with more than chocolate and a kiss?” she whispers as she pulls back a little, and suddenly Tom can’t get up fast enough to get Jamie to bed and join her outside.

Walking as fast as his long legs can carry him, Tom takes Jamie into his room. He settles him down comfortably, one little foot sticking out from under the blanket because that’s how his son prefers to sleep. Though he really wants to get back to Han and ‘celebrate’, Tom allows himself a moment to gaze at his at the moment angelically peaceful child.

Volume One is often a delight, sometimes a challenge, and always a topic that warms his heart. Now there’ll be a Volume Two. A little daughter perhaps? With Han’s soulful eyes, her sass, and his curls? Or another boy so wee Jamie can play elder brother soon? Tom’s loved having sisters but a brother would’ve been cool too.

Well, first things first. Han deserves some extra loving, now and in the next few months. Mentally juggling his shooting schedule, Tom switches the baby monitor on and returns to the back porch.

Han is comfortably stretched out among the cushions and pillows, lying on her back and staring dreamily up at the sky, one hand on her still flat tummy. The image burns itself into his brain.

Tom strides over with a big grin on his face and plops down. He kisses Han’s hand, then nuzzles the top away to press butterfly kisses to the bare skin on her lower stomach.

“Hey there, Volume Two. You caught us quite by surprise,” he murmurs, then blows a raspberry on her belly.

“Tom,” Han squeals. “That tickles, oy!”

She should have known – but doesn’t care – that it only eggs him on. Before Han can protest anymore or get away, Tom’s fingers join his lips, digging into her sides.

She’s panting and laughing and feels so much lighter than she did a few hours ago. Tom laughs along too, his voice echoing in their garden, sounding better than those birds chiming and the leaves that rustle in the wind.

It also vibrates through her body with how his lips are still pressed against her tummy.

When Han manages to move a little away from him, Tom suddenly sits up on his heels. They both stop for a moment. And then Han sees something in his eyes flicker, and she knows what’s coming.

“No, no, no!” she laughs as she tries to crawl away backwards a bit more.

“Yes.”

Tom first pulls at her ankles, then – when she’s close enough, he grabs her thighs. And before she knows it, Tom kneels between her thighs and holds her waist.

When he leans forward a little, his upper body presses firmly but gently against Han’s.

“Can I get another kiss?”

“Promise not to tickle me anymore?” Her voice is raspy from laughing, the occasional hiccup leaving her.

“Eh,” Tom shrugs before he leans forward some more, his breath now against her cheek. “Not in the next five minutes.”

“And if I kiss you for longer than five minutes?”

Tom grins, Han can feel it. “Then I’ll be too occupied to even think about tickling you.”

“Kiss me, then.”

And so he does, taking his time about it. Often when they’re in a frisky mood, one of them is exhausted or their little son is too demanding. So it’s mostly been a lot of fumbling, a lucky quickie in between mundane things, or quiet lovemaking in the middle of the night when the need for each other won over the need for sleep.

But right now, Tom is in the mood for taking things slow, savouring, treasuring the moment and his wonderful wife. Praying that wee Jamie is too knackered to disturb them and will nap like the angel he can sometimes be, he nibbles on Han’s lips. Tiny nips, soothing little flicks of his tongue, nuzzling his nose against hers in between.

When she gives an approving murmur low in her throat, Tom deepens the kiss gradually, letting his tongue seek out all the secrets of her mouth that he knows so intimately. His hands itch to wander, to caress and arouse. He resists the urge, focusing only on the connection of their lips until they’re breathing with and for each other.

Han knows what Tom is doing, and she’s loving it. He helps her focusing on them, treasuring this moment that’s rare, because for once she’s not thinking about babies (however big they are and no matter if they’re sleeping in their bed or resting in her tummy).

And she also knows that he’s holding himself back, because she can feel what this does to him against her, and yet his hands stay firmly on her waist, just his fingers dig a little deeper now.

As much as Han loves it and enjoys the kiss, she can’t help or keep herself from touching. So, Han’s hands wander to Tom’s face, holding him in place as her tongue joins in on the fun, making him moan when her fingers touch the curls in the nape of his neck.

“I love you,” she mumbles against Tom’s lips.

And just as she feels him taking a breath to respond, one hand moves from his face to travel down between them, making Tom stutter and his breath hitching instead of responding.

Her hand first reaches Tom’s abs and then his hips, settling on that piece of flesh revealed by his scrunched up shirt. Then her legs move up, her thighs tightening, trapping Tom between them. Not that he seems to mind much.

Still, he’s holding her just around her waist, though he’s breathing harder. And Han bathes in the feeling she’s still got it, still being able to make him lose focus.

* * *

Focus. He should focus.

Tom tries to take a deep breath, but all that does is muddle his senses even more. Because his inhalation makes him catch Han’s scent, mingled with chocolate, grass, and fluffy blankets fresh from the washer.

There was something he should do…or shouldn’t do? Or say?

Han steals his ability to think again when she tightens her thighs on either side of him and bucks up slightly, making their middles meet.

Fuck, he loves that woman and how she can slay him.

Oh, yes! That’s what he almost forgot.

Tom wrenches blinks to clear his senses marginally and whispers, “I love you too.”

But he doesn’t wait for her answering smile, he just kisses her senseless. And then he lets one hand roam, finally. Inching slowly beneath her wrinkled shirt. A stroke over her belly, a dip into her navel, then up and up until Han’s breath hitches and her teeth sink into his lip.

When his fingers close around an invitingly rounded breast, her hips buck again.

This. Exactly this. This is what Han has wanted from the beginning.

Her moan is swallowed by Tom’s lips, and suddenly Han doesn’t know what feeling she should concentrate on.

Tom’s lower body against hers? Tom’s hand on her breast, his fingers slightly pinching her, in turn making her buck her hips again and each of them swallowing their respective moans? Or Tom’s lips against hers?

She really doesn’t know. But she does know that she wants more. She wants to celebrate, she wants Tom finally against her after he’s been away filming and Jamie sleeps on.

So, her hand that isn’t pressed against his hips but still tangled in his hair pulls him closer to her. And simultaneously Han feels Tom’s other hand going for the other direction, instead of touching her breast, he lets it travel down, pushing under her arse and lifting her up a bit.

She’s feeling light headed, but it isn’t because of her pregnancy or food she doesn’t like to smell. It’s because Tom is everywhere and she can feel everything.

“Tom,” she whispers against him, not even knowing what she wants to say.

Not knowing anymore, because they’re moving against each other now, and although they’re both fully dressed, Tom almost makes her come undone.

Tom grinds down, rolls his hips, thrusting as if there were no clothes between them, and Han meets him by arching and rubbing herself against his erection.

One of her hands is clutched in his hair and her nails are scrabbling over his scalp, adding a zing to his pleasure. God, the friction and her tongue tangling with his and her moans that he swallows are almost enough to make him lose it. It’s been far too long and it’s all so intense, like everytime they come together.

Summoning as much willpower as he can muster (not much, to be honest), Tom slides his hand from her breast to brace himself against the floor. Balancing, he lets his other hand travel from her butt to her waist and then squeezes it between their grinding bodies. He presses down between her thighs and is rewarded with a needy whimper that in turn makes him groan. Heat greets him through layers of clothes, and he bets she’s nicely slick for him and he could make her go over within seconds.

He wants to. Needs to. As desperately as he needs to breathe.

So Tom wrenches his mouth away from hers and hauls in some air.

“Here?” he croaks. “Or inside?”

Han’s lids flutter before she meets his gaze, her eyes all glazed over and with dilated pupils.

“Here.”

Yes, he’s hoped she would say that. Mostly because he’s too far gone now, and Tom doesn’t know how he could possibly entertain the idea of losing the feeling of Han’s body against his own now. Even if it’s only to take her to bed.

Now that he’s heard her utter that one word, all bets are off for him. Gone is the need to take his time and letting his hands roam freely and slowly. No, Tom wants to touch, and Han makes the voices that tell him she wants to touch and be touched too.

“Now,” she whispers against him, pressing herself closer against his hand. “Naked.”

So, he complies. Doesn’t fully know how they manage to get rid of their respective clothes in the comfy but yet small pillow fort.

But before Tom can think too hard about it, see Han’s knickers thrown somewhere behind him along with his boxer shorts or realise that her shirt and bra are dangling from one of Jamie’s stuffed animals while his shirt covers their treasure trove, her hand grabs his penis, making him moan and squeeze her ass in return.

From her butt he lets his fingers wander to Han’s front, finding her indeed as ready as he thought she would be.

“You’re ready,” he manages to stutter, not even knowing if it was a simple statement or a question.

Han answers anyway. “For you.”

God, he’s in heaven.

Trying to breathe through the urgency and the fire burning inside him, Tom lets his fingers glide through her slickness. He knows just where and how to touch her; he’s sure he can get her to climax in a matter of minutes because she’s already half-there–but Han seems to have other ideas.

One hand still squeezing and stroking him, making him groan helplessly, she wraps the fingers of her free hand around his wrist.

“No. Inside me. Now. Need you now.”

Fucking hell, how’s a man supposed to survive this?

“B-but,” he manages to stutter, his slippery fingertips ghosting over her engorged little bud. “You should come. Wanna make you.”

She presses herself into his touch but shakes her head wildly, increasing the pressure on his wrist.

“No. Together. Please, Tom.”

Christ! Gritting his teeth, Tom gives Han a tight nod and withdraws his hand after another circling motion that has her moan. She lets go of him so he can shift between her thighs and nudge his hips forward while she desperately chants “please, please”. And then he’s sinking inside all that clingy, wet heat and his brain whites out.

It takes all of Han’s willpower to not come apart in mere seconds. She hauls in some air, and takes two or three deep breaths as Tom fills her.

As much as Han needs the friction as well as the release, she tries to literally ride this out for as long as possible.

But Tom won’t move. She knows this, he’s trying to prolong it for her, and make her come first. But it’s not what Han wants today. It’s not about coming first, it’s about coming together.

So, when he still won’t move and as Han can see the sweat building on his forehead and his chest, Han decides to make it clear what she wants.

She bucks her hips and squeezes him as she tightens her muscles around Tom’s member. With a growl, he begins to shake, a shiver running through him. For good measure, Han runs her hands through Tom’s hair just as her mouth finds that spot right underneath Tom’s ear and licks it.

“Hanna,” he mutters.

And then that’s all Han hears – just Tom’s chants of her name – because he finally, finally moves and her brain goes blank. She meets his rhythm even when he finally loses his pace a bit but the thrusts become a little frantic.

She loves everything about this. Tom’s groans, her moans, the sound of their bodies moving together, skin meeting skin and sweat and salvia mixing.

Tom’s lost all sense of time, all ability to think. It feels like he’s been inside Han, squeezing the very life out of him, for half an eternity. But also as if he’s taking things too fast, as if he needs to pause, to make sure she’s losing it alongside him.

But he just can’t with her nails scouring his back and her muscles showing no mercy and her moans spurring him on.

When she crosses her ankles at his back, the angle changes yet again, and Tom’s hips thrust even faster and harder.

With a strangled sound, he grinds against her and feels her convulse. Then she’s whimpering his name and coming all over his shaft, and he can’t hold on any longer. Remembering at the last moment not to yell out her name, he buries his face in Han’s sweaty neck and grits his teeth through his climax.

He also remembers, somehow, to roll off her once they’ve both stopped shaking. Panting and half-blind, he hauls Han close and croaks out a whispered “love you”.

Han almost misses his words due to all the blood rushing in her ears. “Love you too,” she pants back.

That was intense. And it was everything.

She tangles her legs with Tom’s and throws an arm over his stomach, her head resting on his chest. Her head bounces up and down a bit because Tom’s still panting heavily, and she does as well.

Han breathes in his unique Tom smell and turns her head a bit to kiss his chest, while she feels him draw patterns with his fingers on her upper arm. She sighs contently. Their lives could definitely go on like that.

“Are you okay?” Tom whispers against her hair.

Is she? Absolutely. Their lives will get hectic, but this feels nice. Outside, in a pillow fort built for their son with Volume 2 on its way.

“More than that.”

Tom gives a confirming hum and then chuckles. “I think the teddy bears got quite a show.”

Han laughs. “Shut up.”


End file.
